Selfish
by xxcentaurus
Summary: Explores the darker side of Manami. What was so different about Sakamichi? He couldn't figure it out. What was it about his innocent eyes and soft features that made him feel so weak?
1. Chapter 1

It was always so much fun. Seeing that glint in their eyes—those lightly dusted cheeks and sweet smiles; lustful love was something he knew very well. It amused him to be capable of creating such feelings in another person, being able to shape the way they saw him, and control their feelings with things as simple as smiles. Many people would call what he was doing wrong. They'd look down on him, because the feelings of others were no game. It was the type of behaviour that labeled him, and if he was in his right mind he would know to stop.

But Manami wouldn't—it really was too much fun. To him, it was all a game after all. Like the video games he had mastered and beaten, time and time again.

It always began the same way. Pleasant words, shy smiles, gleaming blue eyes. When he first started, he never wanted to stop—until soon he mastered it.

He remembered Miyahara. Playing with her was frightfully easy—but just as amusing. She really fell hard hadn't she? The way she would blush at his presence and avoid his gaze satisfied him. But Manami would have her believe he didn't notice. He let her think that it was possible, because he just wanted it to continue. His pull was a point system. What he could get them to do, what he could get them to say. With Miyahara it had been strong; it wasn't long before she was offering to do his school work and baking him goods. She'd let him cheat off her tests, show up at his practices, talk to him through their windows. All of it was for what though? Manami never returned these feelings—did she notice? He chuckled. It really did thrill him.

His actions were those of someone with malicious intentions, though Manami would claim he had none. He didn't do it to receive, use, or take. It was the sheer notion itself. Would his sweet words work? Did the way he brush his hair behind his ear make them shiver? Was his smile capturing their hearts as much as their vision? He certainly hoped it was. Because that was how he played them, how he played his game.

People truly interested him. The way they worked. The way he could work them. But it was all just for fun. What was wrong with a little amusement?

After Miyahara there were many more. Girls mostly—they were the easiest. They seemed to appreciate his soft jaw line, glistening eyes, toned body, and sweet smile. He never understood it himself, though he was happy for it. His appearance made his games easier to play—easier to win.

At times he barely registered it. The flirty smile was just natural. The slight flip of his hair was instinct. He couldn't help but be amused when they fell. It wasn't as if he pushed them anyway—perhaps he had influenced it, though they were the ones falling themselves. Falling for him.

xxxx

Manami was lonely. He sighed loudly, letting himself fall back on his bed, his arms outstretched and his head lolled to the side. Longing for cycling practice because that's when he felt the most alive. His days seemed to contain the same things—boring him and shaking him to the bone. Eat, sleep, cycle, play. Though that was probably an exaggeration, he did do more than that didn't he?

Manami sighed. He felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his jeans. He found himself smiling for no particular reason. Perhaps it was one of self-pity or dread. Manami smiled so much it had lost it's meaning—they were always fake after all. He couldn't even remember the last time a genuine smile touched his lips. He placed his hand over the warm device in his pocket. It was probably Toudou. Or Fukutomi. Nagging him to stop being late, nagging him to focus, nagging him to stop having his head in the clouds. But he couldn't. Some days being lost in his own world allowed him to recharge, allowed him to prepare himself for the harsh realities of—well reality. The real world was a drain that sucked in creativity, amusement, and happiness. Manami was always left to scavenge for anything that could fulfil him, any small detail that could make him feel euphoric.

Manami wanted to feel. Though with his repetitive and boring world, pain was the only constant feeling. It was the only feeling that would never change; the sweet burning sensation of over exerting his legs, or the stinging in his lungs when they begged him for air. He pushed himself hard when he cycled—it hurt. But it was a feeling nonetheless.

When Manami closed his eyes, he rarely imagined how things could be, because that sort of pain didn't sustain him. He never pushed for change, or happiness, and he thought perhaps that was why he found himself looping the same routine.

He wondered why he searched for amusement in the most absurd ways, playing with people, cycling dangerously. He also thought often what it would be like to search for happiness rather than amusement. But the question always answered itself, as he thought about how fleeting and cruel true happiness was, while his lowly antics brought him constant results. Amusement pleased him enough to scrape by. Enough to feel a spark through his chest, and enough to push aside the rotting loneliness within him.

But somewhere far off he wondered what it would be like to be someone else. To be less superficial. To try. But trying was something Manami despised. It often lead to failing, self loathing, and pain—emotional pain.

Trying was for cycling, it was for nothing but that.

His phone buzzed again.

This time he allowed himself to pull it out. Cracks crisscrossed his screen. He really should be more careful with it.

The messages were both from Sakamichi.

He smiled, though he didn't know why. It wasn't a smile of happiness or excitement. Perhaps one of thought. The other boy was certainly interesting.

Manami remembered when they had first met. His instincts caused him to begin like how any game begun. And Sakamichi was instantly enthralled.

What amused him the most about the rival cyclist was how quickly his pull took effect. He fulfilled his promise—thinking of Manami the entire time. He grinned. Yes Sakamichi was very interesting. The way his vivid blue eyes shone, their gaze always seemed to reach Manami. It was a strange feeling to say the least—it made him desperate for more. Desperate to win.

He did wonder why his chest felt so heavy, when he was around Sakamichi. What was the churning sensation in his stomach? The heat in his cheeks? It amused him, it pushed him to play his game.

 _Hey Manami!_ His first message had said. He could almost picture that bubbly tone and sweet voice. _You haven't been responding to my texts, is something wrong!_

Why did it feel so easy? He'd surely win in no time. And then he could forget. He could forget all about the Chiba cyclist, Onoda Sakamichi. After winning there really was no point in sticking around. Interactions would become boring, fruitless—those amusing feelings would vanish. Manami felt the same way when he played a video game more than once. There was no point in continuing when he had already won.

 _Everything's fine Sakamichi! Really, you don't have to worry for me. I guess the only thing wrong is how long it's been since we've seen each other!_

He hit send.

His phone buzzed mere moments after his message had delivered. _Ah really? I can say the same to you Manami! Would you want to meet up today? I apologize for being so forward!_

Manami chuckled. His eyed squinted and his mouth drew into a conceited smile.

He could admit that Sakamichi was different—different than the previous, dare he say victims. He assumed it was the fact that he was a cyclist, or the fact that he loved mountains, or perhaps even the fact that he dared to call Manami his friend. Though he was still a card in the same deck, no matter the unique suit or value. Manami shrugged. There was no use putting thought in something so trivial—someone so trivial.

Manami reached for the ceiling, stretching his back and arms.

xxxx

He made plans. They'd meet at the train station in Kanagawa, and Manami would bring his bicycle so they could cycle together. He'd choose a mountainous route to ride, they were his favourite after all. There were few things he could truly say he loved; love was after all a very confusing feeling. Some say it can move mountains and work miracles. But for Manami, he loved the mountains themselves, and he was fine with them staying in their places. They'd never return his love, though they'd never reject it either.

His love for the steep mountains and the rigorous climb would never knock him down. It would never reduce him to tears, or tear through his insides. However true love, between two living beings, was uncontrollable.

After all, you can't help who you fall for.

"Ah Manami, it's so good to see you."

His nervous yet soft voice broke through Manami's thoughts, as he sat there, blindly watching the trains screech by. Sakamichi skipped towards him, the sleek yellow frame of his road bike slung over his shoulder.

Manami had his bicycle as well. His own sparkling white frame was clutched tightly in his hand; the cool metal was slippery in his clammy grip. He smiled. Squinting his eyes slightly and tilting his head. Strands of feathery blue hair fell into his face—he hoped Sakamichi found it charming.

No reaction. Unlike the many who had. There was no blush or stutter or glance away. That was fine Manami told himself. Though very confused. He had thought his pull was in effect. Why else had Sakamichi been so desperate to participate in the InterHigh? It was for him wasn't it? He saw no other reason for his frequent texts and excited calls, for the way he blushed and shied away, or how he'd stutter Manami's name. Wasn't that how the game worked? He shrugged.

"I was thinking we could cycle up Mount Fuji."

That route would be a reminder of his loss, though thinking of it didn't sting anymore. The forty-first InterHigh was long gone, disappearing to the back of Manami's memories. The race was sickly reminder of his weakness, of his failure to succeed against an unexperienced amateur—against Sakamichi. But that pain was old and faded, no longer nipping at him whenever his eyes caught mount Fuji, or his mind wandered to far.

"Alright!"

xxxx

Manami felt his sturdy white frame underneath him, the rhythmic rotation of his thin tires, and the soft wind blowing through his shoulder length hair. Today was a leisurely ride. His muscles seemed to thank him for it, as they were used to his violent riding.

As he glided across the hot asphalt, he basked in the soothing wind and white noise. He knew he wasn't alone, though he could almost imagine he was. It wasn't often that Manami cycled with another person in such a way—races and practice were very different.

"Manami, cycling with you is so much fun."

Sakamichi lined up beside him. He was smiling. His eyes lit up and their radiant blue seemed to meet Manami. Their softness struck hard at something deep within his chest, leaving him momentarily dazed. It was strange. That stare. It hadn't felt like the ones he was used to—one's of lust or longing.

Sakamichi's was genuine and innocent.

Manami's chest felt heavy, as it did frequently when he was around the other boy. Dread. That's what it was wasn't it? Though not dread to see him, it was something entirely different. It made Manami's chest constrict, his breath catch in his throat.

It made him want to win.

"Do you think we could do this more often?"

Blue eyes were glistening with hope. Manami had blue eyes too, yet they never appeared so innocent. They were usually brimming with a sinister gleam, or perhaps a charming shimmer.

"Anytime you want Sakamichi."

It was false. But it was bait. He had no intention to continue visiting, speaking with, or even thinking about the other boy. He knew he would grow bored soon—Sakamichi would simply cease to interest him.

Manami hated being bored—he hated being unamused. It was only natural to stop doing things that bored him wasn't it? He shrugged. Caring for himself was only natural. Though it wasn't that he didn't care for others, more so that they never interested him enough to bud those feelings. It was paradoxical really. He knew care wasn't meant to root from interest, it was suppose to come naturally, though for Manami it did not.

"Ah great Manami!"

The wind picked up. It pressed against his back, enveloping him. He could feel the air swirling around him amplifying his speed. Wings. That's what people called this burst he was feeling. He clicked his gear shifters sending his chain dancing upward, pulled along by the rear derailleur.

He seemed to glide up the steep road. His momentum and his powerful legs pushed him forward.

As expected, Sakamichi matched his speed using his insane cadence. It interested Manami—how fast he could go, how he was always catching up, and how he had surpassed him that one day in the middle of summer. Manami would never forget it, losing has struck him hard. He had ruined the image of Hakogaku and brought shame to his mentors.

xxxx

They stopped at a guard rail. He leaned on it, overlooking the town of Hakone. Manami swore he could see his school or maybe his house. Though everything was fuzzy and hidden by the clouds. They were like a thick transparent blanket, covering the town and wrapping around the mountain. He stared off into the distance allowing the cold breeze to kiss his face.

"It's really nice up here isn't it?" Sakamichi leaned against the sturdy metal.

He was so close. His forearm was touching Manami's own—it was electrifying really. It emitted warmth and his skin was so smooth. He wanted to pull away, but it satisfied him. No—he didn't want to pull away because he was still playing, that was the only reason.

"Are there mountains like this in Chiba?" He turned to the side. Letting his hair flutter in the wind, the feathery blue brushing soflty against his face. He smiled. They were close—he thought if they had been any closer they'd have bumped noses.

"None nearly as tall as Mount Fuji." Sakamichi took a few shy steps backwards. Why did it hurt?—Why did he want the other boy to be close? It was for his game. It was so he could win. But was it really his game he wanted to win, or something else—someone else?

Manami shook his head. His chest tightened and his mouth was dry. He swallowed.

"That's a shame, climbing is always." He paused to gather his thoughts. "So much fun."

He'd never be able to call himself a sprinter—or even an all-rounder. Flats were always so boring, so painless. It wasn't the speed he could travel but the inclination he could conquer. Though Manami did pride himself in his ability to quickly scale the mountainous roads.

His mind wandered back to the boy beside him. He glanced. Sakamichi's eyes were closed. He had his face to the wind as he gripped the guardrail.

Manami appreciated the way his short dark hair blew messily. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

He noticed his jersey. It was the one he had worn when they had met at the training camp—how Manami remembered that truly puzzled him. Nonetheless the white and red was flattering. Yellow was so harsh and vibrant—he liked the subtle colour scheme for a change. Manami decided he also liked the way the fabric hugged Sakamichi's body. His pectoral muscles and toned abdomen were visibly outlined through the jersey. Manami smirked, eyeing him hungrily.

It just interested him was all. How one's body could look in such clothing. It was the simple notion. Manami told himself it was nothing more—he refused to assign any real meaning.

"Should we head back?" Blue eyes met his stare.

A part of him never wanted to head back. A part of him said it was because he hadn't yet won, but another screamed that he was amused. Amusement that didn't root from another's loss. Amusement that didn't hurt anyone—but maybe himself. He shrugged it off. He'd focus on his game.

Manami moved to rest his chin on Sakamichi's shoulder. He pressed his chest against the other boy's back, grabbing the guardrail in one hand. He laughed, leaning into Sakamichi.

"Ah, M-Manami." He stuttered. His eyes were wide and finally his cheeks were dusted a light pink.

He enjoyed the way the shorter boy had stuttered his name. It amused him greatly, awaking something within him. The way his voice trembled innocently piqued his interests, causing him to smile, almost cockily. He was flooded with satisfaction, as he wondered if he had done it. If he had won. Was he mere moments away from hearing those three words?—His chest was tight.

Sakamichi backed away from Manami's hold.

He was shaking. His eyes were still wide and his mouth hung open.

If this was just a game why did Manami's chest hurt so terribly? This was his game. He was the player. His actions were nothing more than skillfully thought moves, as he tried to win. So why did his rejected advances sting? What was it about Sakamichi that felt so different? He couldn't place it—he couldn't even begin to piece it together. Something deep within him urged him to keep playing—he wanted to make more plays, he wanted to see the other boy's reaction, he wanted to win.

But one thought struck him harder than the rest. Did he want to win—or did he just want hear those three words coming from _his_ mouth?

Manami's thoughts stood still, as he realized he was without his mask for far too long. He had just been standing there, gazing at the ground with a thoughtful look etched onto his face. He smiled. He tilted his head and he laughed.

"I'm sorry Sakamichi, it really was too tempting." He rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his hair slightly. "Your shoulder just looked so comfortable."

The other boy laughed nervously. He squinted his eyes while doing so and fiddled with the side of his glasses. "It's alright, you just surprised me is all."

Manami nodded. He moved from the guardrail to his road bike. He squeezed the cold metal frame, before mounting it. Lightly holding the handlebars, he drifted down the road. Sakamichi would follow him. He'd lead the other boy back to the train station and they would depart. His chest ached at the thought. He was fed up with the way his game was going. It was like an unbeatable level—one he had to use cheats on or watch play throughs to clear. He chuckled darkly.

A sudden loud crash behind him was all it took to rip Manami from his thoughts. What was this sudden pang in his chest? Why did he clench his brakes and turn so violently to see what had happened? His heart was pounding quickly. _Sakamichi_.


	2. Chapter 2

**I've been getting a couple of comments on this and I just wanted to say that I stopped posting on Fanfiction a little while ago, so if you are interested in reading (ch2 - ch5) you can find it on Archive of our own! Same username (xxcentaurus) and fic name (selfish), I'd link it but won't let me. Sorry for the inconvenience, and thank you for your kind comments!**


End file.
